


Lost and Found

by orphan_account



Series: Lost and Found: Single Parent AU [1]
Category: Agents of S.H.I.E.L.D. (TV)
Genre: F/M, Gen, and lots of other fun little references--try to spot them, references to Coulson and May
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-08-26
Updated: 2015-08-26
Packaged: 2018-04-17 07:03:20
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,021
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4657134
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Jemma's daughter Skye loses her precious stuffed dog Phil at the park. Fitz's son Donnie accidentally brings him home. </p><p>In which Jemma finds Phil and a little something more. </p><p>Single Parent AU, written for amazingjemma's prompt: "I think your child took my child’s toy home from the park by accident and I don’t want to make a big deal of it but…holy shit you’re a single parent too…and really hot?"</p>
            </blockquote>





	Lost and Found

**Author's Note:**

  * For [amazingjemma](https://archiveofourown.org/users/amazingjemma/gifts).



> So I really had a blast writing this one, and maybe that's just because I would have fun doing just about anything that's not law school reading, but I think I may end up making a series of one-shots in this universe, or maybe a short multi-chap. 
> 
> Also, I can't decide if it's weird that I used Skye and Donnie as their kids. I just didn't want to make up new characters, and I thought it would be kinda cute. 
> 
> As always, reviews and kudos are much appreciated :)

“Um, Mama?” Skye asked, tugging at Jemma’s shirt. She turned to look at her; Skye’s little brown eyes were rapidly pooling with tears, drawing Jemma’s immediate concern. 

“What’s wrong, Daisy?” she asked, kneeling in front of the four-year-old. 

“When we were at the park earlier I lost Phil,” Skye sniffled, tears beginning to make their way down her round cheeks. “I let someone else play with him and I think he took him by accident.” 

Jemma sighed, accepting that she would somehow have to get the stuffed dog back. When Jemma had first brought Skye home from St. Agnes’ Home for Orphans a year ago, she had given her the plush chocolate lab to snuggle with at night. Skye had named the dog Phil after the social worker that arranged her adoption, and she’d been deeply attached to him ever since. Well, she’d been attached to both Phils ever since. 

“Do you remember your little friend’s name?” 

“I think his name was Donnie,” she supplies. “He was with his dad. And his dad talked kinda funny, almost like you but not really.” 

Jemma’s eyebrows raise. “Did his dad talk to you, Skye? Remember what I said about not talking to strangers.” 

Skye shook her head. “No, I heard him talk when he told Donnie they had to go home. I guess I didn’t notice that Phil was still taking a nap in Donnie’s bucket.” 

Jemma smiled kindly at her. “Good girl.” 

“He also said his dad is a science guy. Like you’re a science lady.” 

“Well, don’t you worry. We’ll find him. What do we always say?” 

“Nobody gets left behind,” Skye recited firmly. Jemma smiled at her and nods, kissing her on the forehead as she reached for her laptop on the kitchen counter. 

This gave her something to work off of, and she conducted a quick search of nearby labs, scanning their staff lists for anyone who might be from the UK. She could only assume that an accent would account for Skye’s deduction that the man “talked funny”; the little girl had taken to poorly imitating her mother’s accent in recent weeks.

“I think I found him, sweetheart. Does he look familiar?” Jemma asked, showing her the man’s photo on an engineering firm’s website. He was young, probably around Jemma’s own age, with startlingly blue eyes and a mop of sandy curls. Jemma thought he was rather cute, actually. Skye nodded enthusiastically. 

“Yes! That’s him!” 

Jemma quickly tracked down a phone number and dials. A receptionist answered with a scripted and monotone greeting.

“Hello. May I please speak with Leo Fitz?” 

“May I ask who’s calling?” 

“My name is Jemma Simmons, it’s about his son Donnie?” Jemma asked unsurely. If Skye was wrong, Jemma would be harassing some poor man at his place of work about a kid that wasn’t even his. 

The receptionist sighed. “Hold please.” 

Jemma expected the wait to be longer, or for Leo Fitz to refuse her call. Instead, he picked up the phone almost instantly.

“Fitz speaking,” he said, his accent distinctly Scottish. She began to explain the incident, but he cut her off almost immediately. “Whatever he broke, I’ll pay to fix it.” 

Jemma paused before breathing out a little laugh. “Oh, he didn’t break anything. He was playing with my daughter Skye this morning at Triplett Park, and she thinks he may have accidentally taken her favorite toy.” 

“He’s a stuffy!” Skye indignantly shouted from behind her. “Not a toy, a stuffy!” 

“I’m sorry, her favorite stuffy,” Jemma corrected, indulging her precocious daughter. 

She hears Fitz hold back a laugh. “Ah, I see. A stuffy. Well, obviously I’m at work right now, but I can call his babysitter and ask. What’s it look like?” 

“He’s a brown dog,” Jemma explained. 

“He’s a chocolate lab! And his name is Phil!” Skye called out again. Jemma would really need to talk to her about that. 

“Ah, a chocolate lab named Phil. Perhaps I’ll just call his name when I get home and see if he appears.” 

Jemma laughed. “It really can wait until this evening, but if he is there, would you mind giving me a call back so I can come get him from you? Skye doesn’t sleep well without him.” 

“Not a problem, I know the drill.” 

“Thank you so much!” Jemma gushed. She waited for him to have a pen before giving him her phone number. She thanked him again and hung up, turning to Skye’s expectant face. “He’s going to ask Donnie and take a look when he gets home from work.” 

Skye crossed her fingers on both hands. “I really hope he’s there, Mama.” 

“Me too, Daisy,” Jemma commiserated. “I’m sure he is. Why don’t we keep ourselves busy in the meantime? He wouldn’t want us to worry about him. Let’s do some more magic milk!” 

“Okay,” Skye agreed solemnly. “You’re right, I think he would want us to play.” 

“Yes, he would,” Jemma replied, struggling to keep her face straight as she poured milk into three small bowls. She rustled around in the cabinets for the food coloring, and dashed quickly to the bathroom to retrieve some cotton swabs. One of Skye’s plastic sippy cups was used to hold a small amount of dish soap, and Jemma placed it all on Skye’s bright yellow plastic table. 

“Do you remember how?” 

Skye smiled at her excitedly and nodded rapidly, bouncing in her chair as she dabbed some dish soap on the cotton swab in her hand. 

“What’s our biggest rule?” 

“Only Mama uses the food color,” Skye proudly stated. 

“That’s exactly right. You’re very smart, sweetie.” 

This seemed to please her daughter, and Skye beamed at her before requesting a dot of red food coloring on one of the bowls of milk. Jemma watched Skye hold her breath as she slowly lowered her Q-tip toward the dot of food coloring, which hovered on the surface of the white liquid. Skye finally made contact and gasped happily as the food coloring exploded in a circle of color. Jemma giggled happily at the look on her daughter’s face. Even knowing what the outcome would be, Skye remained in awe of the very basic reaction between the dish soap and the milk. 

They did a few more rounds of magic milk before Jemma set about making dinner for them. She clicked the TV to Biology Bobbi and set Skye up in front of it to keep her out of the kitchen. 

“I love to watch Auntie Bobbi on TV,” Skye sighed happily. 

Jemma watched her settle into the couch and felt an immense sense of satisfaction. Her little girl was incredibly bright. Jemma had asked Bobbi’s street artist boyfriend Hunter to paint a mural of a comet on Skye’s wall before she’d been able to take her home, because Jemma saw the girl for exactly what she was; a brilliant, beautiful little comet, destined to change her life forever. 

When they’d sat down for dinner at the kitchen table, Jemma’s phone started ringing. 

“Mama, answer it!” 

“You know I don’t use the phone at the table, Skye,” Jemma chided. 

“But, Phil!” 

“Oh, right!” Jemma amended, hopping up and grabbing it from the counter. She answered without looking at the number calling. “Hello?” 

“Jemma?” Fitz asked. 

“Speaking.” 

“Brilliant. Turns out Donnie did have Phil. He said that he didn’t mean to take him, and that he was—“ 

“Taking a nap in Donnie’s bucket,” Jemma finished with a chuckle. “Skye explained everything. We’re just finishing up dinner, but we could head over later if that’s alright?” 

“Sounds great, we already ate so we’ll be around,” Fitz replied. “We’re at 1945 Carter Street.” 

“Great, we’ll see you soon.” 

They exchanged goodbyes and Jemma told Skye the good news, laughing as her daughter celebrated. Skye didn’t even protest when Jemma insisted that she finish her vegetables before they left to retrieve Phil. In fact, she ate them in record time. 

While Skye ran upstairs to put on a sweater and her shoes, Jemma did a quick survey of her own appearance. Her dark jeans and simple grey t-shirt would have to do; Skye would probably ask questions if she changed her clothes. She swiped a fresh coat of mascara on and put on a coat of tinted chapstick. Then she stopped herself, shaking her head. Leo Fitz was more than likely married, if he had a son young enough to play with Skye. Just because his accent was nice to listen to and he looked quite handsome in his company website photograph didn’t mean she could storm in like some homewrecker. 

“Ready, Mama?” 

Jemma nodded and lead Skye out to the car, setting her up in her carseat before getting in the driver’s seat. 

“I’m so excited to see Phil,” Skye chirped. “I have a lot to tell him.” 

“I’m sure he has a lot to tell you as well,” Jemma played along. “He’s had quite an adventure today.” 

“I know, I can’t wait to hear all about it!” 

They only had to drive a few streets over before they hit Carter, and Jemma was able to find house 1945 easily. It was a nice shade of blue with a bright red door, and Jemma smiled at the charming exterior as she raised her hand to knock on the door. 

It swung open after just a moment to reveal a little boy with brown hair and blue eyes, staring up at her. His attention then turned to Skye, who stood shyly behind her legs. 

“Hi, Skye,” Donnie greeted. “Sorry I accidentally took Phil.” 

Skye stepped out from behind Jemma’s knees. “That’s alright. Accidents happen. That’s what Mama says.” 

“And what did I say about answering the door without me?” Fitz asked his son with a chastising tone. 

“Sorry, Daddy.” 

“That’s alright, kiddo. Just remember next time.” 

“I’ll go get Phil,” Donnie volunteered. Before Jemma could stop her, Skye ran past Fitz and into the house after Donnie. 

“Sorry about that,” Jemma winced. “She’s excited for the big reunion.” 

Fitz laughed warmly, reaching out his hand. “Nice to meet you. I’m Fitz.” 

“Jemma Simmons,” she provided, taking his hand in hers and shaking it. “Pleasure. Is Donnie’s mum around?” 

“Oh, uh, no,” he said awkwardly, scratching next to his ear self-consciously. “Callie actually isn’t a part of our lives.” 

“Oh,” Jemma replied awkwardly, trying desperately to squash the happy feeling in her chest. She had no right to be happy that this poor man and his son had been abandoned. “I’m so sorry.” 

“Don’t worry about it,” Fitz shrugged. “Can’t say Skye looks much like you, she must take after her dad.” 

Jemma was pretty sure she was imagining it, but it felt like he was fishing to see if Skye’s dad was out of the picture. “She might. I wouldn’t know.” 

His blue eyes widened and she slapped a hand over her face. 

“Oh, my God. No, not like that. I adopted her. She’s adopted.” 

He laughed loudly for a moment, joining her own embarrassed giggles. “Wanna step inside? It sounds like they may have gotten distracted in the playroom.” 

“Sure, thanks,” Jemma accepted. 

“You seem a bit young to adopt,” Fitz observed. “Sorry, that probably sounds rude. I just thought it was quite an arduous process.” 

“It is,” Jemma confirmed. She took a deep breath and launched into her and Skye’s story. A year ago, Jemma had met Phil Coulson at a charity event run by her lab. He’d been working with St. Agnes in an effort to increase the quality of living of the children living in the orphanage, and they’d gotten caught up in a lengthy conversation. He showed her several photos he had taken during his first visit, and Jemma’s heart stopped when she’d seen little Skye, then named Mary Sue Poots. Her hair was shorn to her chin, the lines of it uneven around her round face. Something in her big brown eyes called out to Jemma, and through the dirt on her face and the threadbare clothes she wore, Jemma saw something in her that some would call fate. Jemma wasn’t sure how she felt about fate, but she knew enough about human instinct to know she needed to meet this child. 

As a 26-year-old single woman, it had been difficult to convince the nuns at St. Agnes that she would be a suitable fit for Skye. Then Phil Coulson stepped in on her behalf, creating the compromise that Jemma would foster Skye for six months with bi-monthly visits from Phil and his partner, Melinda May. If those six months went well, and Skye wanted to stay, then Jemma could legally adopt her. 

“And things just took off from there,” Jemma said happily, listening to Skye’s distinct laughter from down the hall. “That’s why Phil is so important to her. I didn’t know what to bring her as a welcome gift, so I picked him up at a gas station on the way there. She named him after Phil because he was the person she felt most comfortable with, she didn’t want to leave St. Agnes just because she got to see him every now and again.” 

“And I assume things got better from there?” 

Jemma nodded. “Oh yes. Within a week or so Skye was rather attached to me. She had some problems, though, from being tossed around so many different homes, so I cut back my hours at the lab and took an extra day off. That’s why I was home today with her.” 

Fitz nods understandingly. “Yeah, I know what that’s like. When Callie left, Donnie was just a baby. She signed over her parental rights and left the documents on the coffee table; haven’t seen her since. Being a single parent is no picnic.” 

Jemma smiled empathetically. “Truly. I don’t think I’ve met anyone near my age with kids, let alone any single parents.” 

Fitz grinned at her. “Same here. What field are you in? You said you work at a lab.” 

“I’m a biochemist. Medical research, mostly.” 

“I work in medical engineering!” Fitz said enthusiastically. “We’re working on a new spray delivery system for vaccines that would reduce the need for fillers.” 

“Fascinating. So you could have a vaccine that’s less expensive to make and—“ 

“—potentially more effective, yes,” Fitz finished for her. 

“But what about—“ 

“—the molecular structure of the bacteria? Yeah, that’s the issue.” 

“You know, I actually think I might have some suggestions for that,” Jemma offered. “I would obviously need to take a look at your designs, but I’ve been working with a substance called GH-325, trying to find ways to make it less volatile because it has huge potential for accelerating the healing process at a microcellular level, and—“ 

“Mama,” Skye whined suddenly. “You know Auntie Bobbi said not to talk nerdy to boys.” 

Fitz choked on a laugh as their attention turned to the kids standing behind them. Skye clutched Phil protectively to her chest. 

Skye turned to Fitz matter-of-factly. “She says that boys are too stupid and they don’t understand. Uncle Hunter definitely doesn’t understand.” 

Fitz couldn’t hold back the laugh anymore and nearly cackled. “I’ve got a friend named Hunter, and he’s actually got a girlfriend that—“ 

“Wait, what?” Jemma interrupted. “Not Lance Hunter? And Bobbi Morse?” 

Fitz stared at her, dumbstruck. “Yeah, actually.” 

“Bobbi was my roommate all through undergrad, we studied biology together!” Jemma exclaimed. “Hunter actually painted Skye’s bedroom walls for me before I brought her home.” 

“Hey Mama, can we stay for a little bit so I can play? Donnie has a really neat building set.” 

“Oh, sweetie, we can’t impose—“ 

“Nonsense,” Fitz waved her off. “We can have some tea and let them tire themselves out before bed.” 

“That would be lovely,” Jemma smiled, no longer able to quell the excitement rising up in her. 

She took a seat at his table as he put on the kettle, and they continued to chat about their mutual friends and their respective work, peppered with anecdotes about their children. They finished one pot of tea and then another, and Jemma suddenly looked at the time. 

“Oh! It’s nearly Skye’s bedtime.” 

“Oh, hell, Donnie’s too.” 

“Well, Fitz, it really was lovely to meet you. And so nice to chat with someone who understands…well, all of this,” she said, waving lazily around her. 

Fitz grinned at her. “Yeah, same here. You’ve got my number from when I called you earlier, that’s my cell. Feel free to uh, to call it. Whenever you want.” 

“Likewise,” she said softly. On impulse, she leaned up and kissed his cheek. She gathered Skye and they made their way back home. Skye obediently completed her bedtime routine, and once Jemma had tucked her in, she settled into her own bed, opening up her emails and preparing for work the next day. 

She had just turned out the light when her phone rang. She grappled for it and answered tentatively. 

“Hello?” 

“Jemma?” 

“Hi, Fitz. Is something wrong?” 

“No. Uh, no. But I was thinking—what are the odds that Donnie would take Phil, or that you would find me, or that we’re both single parents, or that we’re both bloody scientists?” 

“Pretty slim,” Jemma admitted. 

“Exactly. And so I was thinking, maybe—dinner.” 

“Dinner?” 

“Yes. Me and you. Maybe we could have dinner. Someplace nice.” 

“Oh.” 

She hadn’t been on a date since before she’d adopted Skye, and she could practically hear Bobbi screaming in her mind to just woman up and do it. 

“That would be great,” Jemma finally said, and she heard him heave a sigh of relief. 

“Great. Okay. I’ll call you when it’s not the middle of the night. Maybe we can talk Bobbi and Hunter into watching both of the kids at the same time.” 

Jemma laughed sleepily at the image. “Oh, poor Hunter won’t know what hit him.” 

They chatted idly for a few more moments before bidding one another goodnight, and Jemma fell asleep with a clear mind and a full heart. Her little girl was still changing her life every single day.

**Author's Note:**

> Let me know if you would be interested in seeing more from this universe, and foliow me at superirishbreakfasttea.tumblr.com to submit prompts :)


End file.
